Bacon Bits: a collection of Short Stories, One Shots, and Snippets
by RunningBacon
Summary: Like the title suggests, these are short stories, one shots, and snippets. These are meant for those people who don't have multiple hours out of the day to read, or if you just want to read something short. So please sit back and relax (again) and please enjoy the stories and be prepared to laugh, cry, feel the feels, and get ready for anything.


_Hello readers! Like the explanation said, this is a collection of short stories, one shots, and snippets of things I plan on writing._

_This first story is a clip from the World of Darkness universe and it does tie into my other story __**Dawn **__and if you like this and have not read Dawn, then I would highly recommend reading it._

_So please enjoy and leave a review to tell me how to improve and to tell me what you liked. And thank you for taking the time to even open this up._

**Angels**

"I hope you don't mind me coming today. I heard your story and thought it would make a great article."

"Oh it is no problem. I don't get to tell it much, and I hope to help spread of awareness of what is actually happening out there."

Light shone in through the large open window, lighting the living room where the to men sat. One of the men was younger, almost twenty-three. He had small stubble growing on his chin which, hopefully, would one day look like an actual beard. The reporter was not a small man, but not large. He wore a light pair of jeans and a neat, light brown button up shirt. His hair was a light shade of brown and his eyes were an icy blue.

The other man sat in a large armchair with a floral pattern while the reporter sat on a small couch. He was a tall African man. His heavy accent and near black skin showed that he was originally from Africa. He was around thirty-one, but just by looking at him, you could see that he had seen and done more than most men of his age had ever, or ever should have.

"So, if you are ready, where would you like to start?"

"... well what is their to say?" He hesitated and took a breath before he began," It started when the soldiers came into my village."

March 31, 1991, South Sudan

It had been almost a month since the soldiers had invaded the small town. They were rebels, fighting a war that was tearing a nation apart. They stormed into the village and took all the young boys and men, Anywhere from the ages of five to eighteen. Those who tried to save the children were shot and killed. Any child that tried to run, was shot and killed. They piled all of the kids in the back of large truck with a heavy canvas and took them away.

Took them away to be trained as soldiers in the Sudanese rebel army.

Soldiers stood guard in the night, cigarette smoke and idle talk were the only sounds and smells that pierced the cool, dark night. Small buildings and tents were scattered around at random in the confines of the fence. The chain link fence surrounded the entire camp, it wasn't enough to stop an oncoming army or even a small patrol, it was used to keep animals out... and people in.

A small hut lay in the middle camp. The inside reeked of human feces and body odor. Inside the one room, nearly twenty-seven boys were crammed inside. The room had originally started with forty six boys in it, but... the insurgents have ways of "sifting out" the weak.

One such boy lay in his dirt corner. His skin was stretched over his bones and his features were sunken in. All the energy was sapped from his tiny frame, from malnutrition and hard work. He was sleeping and dreaming of the days he was with his family, his village, his friends, home cooked food, and the smiling faces of his friends that had once been played with him out in the fields, they were now either in his same spot, or in the ground next to it. It seemed like ages ago since the last time he saw all those things. And he began to believe he never would.

This boy was eight.

1:37 am, April 1st

Light shined down from the bright cresent moon that stood in it's place in the sky. Always watching, seeing all that lay in her domain.

She saw what the soldiers didn't.

Two dark figures moved across the plains under the light of the moon. They ran with the speed of lions, and when they had entered the camp, they proved they had something more than speed.

From within the shack, the small boy heard gunfire and cries of confusion and fear. He dared not leave the hut. Whatever was out there was obviously beating the soldiers.

For what seemed like an eternity the gunfire continued. With every cry out of pain the gunfire lessened, and with every passing cry the shouts grew fewer, until it stopped altogether.

Eventually, his curiosity got the better of him, and the boy ran to the door to the outside. He hesitated for a moment before peeking out. The others boys behind him warned him not to go out. But curiosity and the want to know drove him more then their wispers.

He walked out the door and found no guards at the door. His bare feet made little noise as he walked out into the camp. Many dark lumps lay on the ground, scattered all over the place. He approached one to see it was one if the soldiers. His chest was ripped open and cuts and tears covered his body. Another close by one had precise cuts and slices at vital points on his neck and abdomen. Every soldier in the camp lay in similar conditions, all dead.

The young boys head turned and spun to see what had done this. Two dark figures were slowly disappearing into the night.

"HEY!"

One of the figures stopped. Two eyes shone back at the child, glowing brilliant gold in the darkness. But as soon as they were there, they were gone, along with both the figures.

The boy walked back to the hut. He told the other boys what he had saw. The soldiers, the bodies, the beasts. They were all speechless. The oldest boy told the others to sleep. They would have to wait until morning to make a move.

The group of boys all exited the building at once. All of them took in the scene. Now they saw the extent of the damage from the night before. No building, vehicle, resource, or weapon had been touched. The only thing that had changed were the soldiers.

But something else stood out.

A large bus sat at the entrance of the compound. It was caked in dirt and was once covered in a bright blue paint, which is now chipping away and rusting. The gate was open, and so was the door to the bus.

The group walked over and peered inside. A young woman sat at the wheel. Her skin was almost as dark as her hair which was cornrowed on one side and on the other, hung short and straight. Small earbuds rested in her ears. Faint, muffled music came from the earbuds and the phone that was set on the dash, next to large rifle. Her ears were laid with piercings that ranged in stile from simple buds, to pieces of bone. A pair of aviators covered her eyes. A large six shot pistol was held in her drooped hand and two axes lay on either of her hips. A magazine lay on her lap and rose and fell as she took deep breaths. She was sleeping.

"E...e...excuse us," the oldest boy stuttered.

Her head turned slowly towards the boys and examined them. She sat up straight and stretched slightly before leaning forward and starting the bus, letting the magazine fall to the floor. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"Are you getting on?"

All the boys looked at each other and up again at the woman.

The boy that had left the confines if the hut stepped up first,"Are you here to take us home?"

The boy was met with a grin. "Why else would I have a bus this big?"

"The women had food on the bus, and she fed us. Oooh did she feed us. I didn't know what it was at the time. But it was a flat bread with red sauce and cheese that came out of boxes, and it was the most beautiful thing I had ever eaten."

"Pizza," the reporter laughed, "she fed you pizza?"

"Yes, yes she did. She then took us back to our villages, and she vanished. Bus and all."

The young man wrote swiftly as the details kept coming. "So... can you tell me more on the animals? The beasts, or whatever it was that killed the soldiers. What did they look like?"

"I couldn't tell you. I only saw his eyes. Everything else was hidden by the dark. But I am very greatful that God sent him to us."

"You said him. How do you know it was a him?"

"Because he was know animal. He was a man." The African man set his coffee mug down on the woodcarved coffee table in front of him. "His eyes told me that he was no animal, and his posture wasn't that of an animal either. And no animal could do what he did. But the second one was a beast. Though it walked on it's hind legs."

"Well then what were they?"

"Angeles. Sent from God to save us."

He jotted down a few more notes before asking the next question, "Just one last thing. The bodies. You said they had cuts and tears. What else did they have?"

A sigh escaped the older man's lips, "They had what I told you before. Slices like that of a blade and that of a claw. But I did notice something else. It may have just been my imagination, but the soldiers with the blade wounds each had injuries on the neck, and a few had bullet holes in them as well."

The two men sat still in the morning sunlight. The one tried to soak in all he had been told.

"Well thank you for your time," he offered his hand to the man that sat across from him.

He took the hand in a strong grip,"It is no problem. I hope you have found your story."

The young reporter stood and walked to the door, accompanied by the Sudanese man.

"I just have one last question. Do you ever wonder, who this guy was? Or the girl? Or the other figure you saw?"

The older man paused and looked down in thought, "I have wondered every day since the rescue. But what I do know, that because of them, I have a family, and a life here in America, and a story of a guardian angel."

"From what you said about the bodies, I would have guessed he was a devil."

The large man laughed at the comment, "Maybe. Maybe."


End file.
